raising the bar
Another productive counseling session yesterday, if not quite as much of a watershed as the last one. We had good intentions of picking up where we left off in discussing how to “fight well,” but she let me ramble on for a little while about various aspects of my personal history, friendship history, and the evolution of my convictions. We eventually came around to discussing conflict, and I had flagged a few things to explore coming out of the previous session:
- Identifying the cause(s) of frustration. Many times in my marriage, I’d be deeply frustrated and/or angry, but couldn’t pinpoint the cause in order to be able to have a conversation. Or maybe there would be multiple causes (they tended to stack up after a while). But I would just have a general sense of malaise or a deep unhappiness that I couldn’t tie to anything concrete, even after dedicated thought. This has been a challenge for me for my whole life.
- Determining whether the pressure point even deserves to be shared and worked out in the first place. Kind of relates to the “self-advocacy vs. selfishness” question I raised last time. Do I just share everything and let the chips fall where they may? That seems like it could be exasperating/discouraging for a partner.
- Strategies for compromising. How do I know if I’m conceding too much, or not enough?
We camped out on the first bullet point for a while. She reassured me that it’s a challenge for many people to identify why they’re feeling frustrated or upset, but that there’s an element of acceptance that could be beneficial. I tried to explain how, for me, my process of conflict resolution is kind of like a flow chart, and determining the source of the frustration is Step 1. In other words, if I can’t independently tag the emotion and its cause, I can’t make any progress. It ties back to the “airtight case” mindset I’ve always had about interpersonal conflict; it’s always felt like I’ve had to have something to present as I initiate the conversation. That way, I related, even if I get shot down, at least I’ll have a sense of personal integrity to fall back on, as it were; I’ll know that I failed in pursuit of a righteous cause, so to speak. This seemed like a novel approach to my therapist, to the point where she started taking notes for the first time in one of our sessions. I expressed surprise, as it dawned on me that there might be another way to resolve conflict, and I started to consider for the first time how that might work itself out. Maybe, just maybe, I could have a talk with a partner wherein I identify the causes of the frustration, and work out a solution in real time. I actually got emotional when I began to speculate about what that would require: A commitment by both parties to some basic ground rules, like no threatening to leave, no blanket accusations, listening while assuming the best of the other person’s intentions, and a whole host of other dynamics and resolutions that I’ve never, ever seen or experienced in a relationship. I think I’m beginning to understand why this whole idea of “fighting well” has seemed so alien to me, and has made me feel so insecure, when in reality, it’s something that I should, if not actually look forward to, at least be prepared to encounter as a normal part of a relationship. But still—just the idea that there could be someone out there with whom I could have a conflict and not have them dangle everything and the kitchen sink out the window in an attempt to get their way… The mind boggles.